


There's A Cryptid In Our Attic, I Swear!

by GodWouldBeDisappointed



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dead Wilbur Soot, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Phil is down to talk to ghosts, Techno is not, Tommy is too, Wilbur Soot-centric, Wilbur is really just a cryptid, Wilbur just trolls this family constantly, and I feel like more people need to focus on that, but they are on their way in chapter 2 :), no beta we die like wilbur, no one but wilbur in the 1st chapter, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, there will be fluff tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodWouldBeDisappointed/pseuds/GodWouldBeDisappointed
Summary: Wilbur looked away from his body to stare at the burnt walls of the cabin.“Well,” he supposed, “at least it’s not cold anymore.”----Alt title: Pretty Sure An E-boy Died Here
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 17
Kudos: 216





	1. Chp. 1

To say Wilbur didn’t like the cabin was the understatement of the century. He absolutely despises it; it was so cold. Wilbur hates the cold.  
But it’s not like he could say no to a trip with family, especially since they all knew he had nothing going on. It’s the eve of the new year, 2017 just on it’s way. Wilbur had a feeling things were going to go down hill from this moment on.

Wilbur could admit that the cabin was nice, it didn’t have heating, but it was very aesthetically pleasing. The place was two stories with an open living room and kitchen when you walked in. The stairs were at the edge of the room and you could see most of the upper first hall with the high ceilings and open banister. It was light colored wood logs that lined the walls and the whole outside was moss covered stones with a nice garden stretching down the long driveway. 

Wilbur and his parents were sitting around the living room towards the end of the night, his little cousin playing on his ds by the fireplace when his aunt called out from the kitchen, “We’re out of drinks! Who wants to head into town with me?”  
His dad stood up, “I’ll go with, not a new year's party without liquor.” His mom rolled her eyes at that, but got up anyway.  
“I need to grab some stuff anyway,” She looked over at Wilbur and her nephew, “do you two want to come to?” His cousin got up and walked to the car wordlessly.  
His dad mumbled grump-ly under his breath, “We’re just bringing everyone now?”  
“Oh hush, Wilbur?” He looked up from his phone at his name being called. “You coming too?”  
“Nah, I’ll stay here. Gotta figure out where I left my guitar anyway.” She nodded in reply as they left the house.  
Wilbur listened as the car left down the driveway before standing up. Now it was just him, the woods, and his missing guitar.  
Wilbur wasn’t in much of a hurry, but he would be very upset if he couldn’t find his guitar. It was one of the very few things he brought with him on this trip. That and a backpack with his things; clothes, toothbrush, book, etc.  
Wilbur took his time at first; walking back through the opening hall, shoes and bags strone about, and scouring the walls and nooks with his eyes. Then onto the dining room where the long table was covered with the party snacks; chip bags and empty cups scattered around.  
Wilbur didn’t like just how messy everything was getting. He thought maybe after he was done that he could clean up the mess from new years before everyone got back. He just thought it would be very rude of them to come into his aunt's house and leave it such a mess.  
As he was about to walk out of the dining room he grabbed some cups and trash and started to walk through the living room to the kitchen. He threw away the trash and placed the cups in the sink after rinsing them out. Outside he heard the wind pick up and brush the trees, just almost hitting the walls against the cabin. Leaves gently scraping against the outside brick. The orange light of the fireplace contrasting so kindly against the colors of the night.  
The house may have been far too cold, but he silently thought he could spend an eternity in this calm.

After a particularly loud thump outside, he heard the undeniable thud of a guitar falling upstairs and the stir of the strings.  
“Oh shit!” Wilbur quickly left the kitchen and through the far too large dining room. If his guitar had broke he would be so pissed for the rest of this trip. He cursed the messiness of his relatives as he tried to hurry through the house.  
As he passed the fireplace he knew he misstepped before he ever met the ground or heard the fall of the fireplace guard. Wilbur swiveled his head to face it as the bright flames of the guard just grazed his face. And because he knows the gods hate him, the flames meet the fabric of the carpet and spread faster than he could move.  
As he got up to stand he had to pat down the fire trailing up his pant leg. The warmth on his leg barely registered as fire flitted across his hands.  
Wilbur raced back into the kitchen scouring the cabinets for a fire extinguisher. He could hear the crackle of the fire spreading across the couches and growing higher. The warmth became unbearable as he began to sweat, his breath heavy in it’s need for oxygen that didn’t exist. Wilbur quickly realized they didn’t have one here and cursed. He searched the ablaze living room with his eyes until he locked his sights onto his phone resting on the coffee table, surrounded by flames. Slowly the fire was wrapping around the kitchen and would soon engulf the front door.  
He raced his way into the living room, the fire licking at his legs and arms. He got to the coffee table and tripped over himself just in time to grab his phone. The hot metal burned his hand, but not as much as the fire teasing down his back- trying to blanket him in a warmth he no longer desired. The fire grows and Wilbur can feel himself having a hard time to breath, much less think. He starts to dial 999 before the buzz of fire and smoke is drowned out by the creak of old wood above him echoing from above. Dazed as he looks up to see a wood beam plummeting too close to run.  
His world is encased in black.  
He feels more warm than he ever has before. He knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this warmth is not kind. The unkind warmth crawled up his body and curled around him in some disfigured mockery of a blanket. It seeped into his veins and spread, unwarranted. His skin burned. Not in the way it does on the beach, no. His skin burned him from the inside out. And a deep itch awoke in the pit of his stomach spreading to his joints and mind. The warmth meant to surround him, slow and caring, and it meant to leave room for nothing else.

When he comes to, he can hear the sirens of police cars and a firetruck. Opening his eyes the fire has gone out leaving charred wood and ruined furniture in its wake.  
There's a pounding in his head and he feels like he could just die, but he makes the effort to sit up. He’s still warm.  
He gets up to walk, to get help. He can hear people moving around and talking so, so very loudly. He wishes they would shut up so his headache can die down. As he turns to walk to the door, he almost bumps into an officer.  
He backs up, “I’m so s-”  
And he stands rigid as she walks straight through him, as if he was no more solid than air.  
Slowly he turns around, afraid of what he may see.

There, on the floor of a broken living room, is his broken body. Almost unrecognizable. Wrapped in a dark blue tarp his body laid on a bright red stretcher. Fresh burns swept across his face and tangled themselves down his arms.  
They officer from before calls over her colleges and he watches as they carry his body out the door. And he follows to see them cart him away.  
Wilbur looked away from his body to stare at the burnt walls of the cabin.  
“Well,” he supposed, “at least it’s not cold anymore.”


	2. Chapter 2

Phil loved his younger brothers, he did- really, but he might just about murder them if they didn’t stop their bickering.   
“Don’t make me turn this car around. I will do it!”  
And Tommy, the smartass he is says, “We get to go home if we keep talking?” earning him a smack from Techno. This led to more bickering and eventual angry silence.  
Phil breathed out through his nose and continued down the wooded, foggy roads of the north. Once they got to pick their new rooms, he was sure they would finally calm down. Hopefully.

Tommy, to say the least, was not happy about moving. It’s not like he had any real reason not to want to move, but the house was apparently pretty far from the main town center. Which means if he wanted to go anywhere he had to walk or make Techno drive him around. Not to mention the town didn’t have any schools above high school in it, so he’d have to do his courses online, which is just a hassle. Techno didn’t seem too bothered by the move, he was just on his phone, looking out the window here and there, sitting next to Tommy as Phil continued down the long road. Or maybe that was just his face, Tommy couldn’t really tell.   
They didn’t need to move, Phil made enough to support all of them as is and Techno didn’t even really live with them before. Did he sell his apartment? Tommy would have to ask later. It seemed the only real reason they moved is because Phil got a new offer at work and though he didn’t need the money, he always loved new adventures.  
As they sped down the empty road they passed a big, wooden sign propped up with organized stone, almost covered by a tree next to it; like the forest was trying to take it away into a world unknown. It read In white letters on the blue background “Forests End: A Town So Quaint You’ll Never Want To Leave” under that just blocked by the tree in front of the sign was “Population: 28- 25.”   
As they drove through the small town Techno took in the sites, trying to memorize the main road to their new house. The town was very obviously old. From what he could see through the dense forest, it was well taken care of. None of the houses were too close together but were still a visible distance from each other. Each one being different from the last; One house being two stories was a nice brown color with a green trim going around it with many plants covering the yard, the next one was a one story that was a bright yellow with white trim, outside on the porch sat an older man in a rocking chair bundled in blankets. There was a small town center where he could see a small school, like the little red ones with a bell you’d see in cartoons, and a bunch of houses. A little ways away was a church with an expansive graveyard. It was quiet, the air was still, not a single soul walked the empty dirt roads; no breeze or sun, the clouds covered the sky and blanketed the town in an almost grey filter. It was almost nice in a way. Techno was sure if it wasn’t for the heating in the car and the packed bags surrounding them that they’d all be freezing down to the bone right now. 

Tommy thought it all looked very burnable, but Phil would get upset if he committed arson the first week in a new town.  
Maybe next week.

As Phil drove down the long, dirt driveway lined with shrubs, Tommy unbuckled and started grabbing his bags along with Techno.   
“How many times do I have to tell you to stay buckled till I park the car?” Phil spoke up turning in front of their cabin.  
“We are literally right in front of the house, Phil.”  
“Tommy, you know that isn’t the point.”

Techno was currently trying to figure out how to get his set up working well with the bigger space he had while Tommy had decided he would rather lay on his unmade bed, scrolling through reddit. Phil, being the most productive of the three, had moved from unpacking his room's things and into the kitchen and living room.   
Most of the house already had the main furniture, they were all old and covered with sheets and all Phil could think was how much of a pain it was going to be to dust this house.   
He moved his pans and dishware to the hickory wood cabinets and put the empty boxes in the corner as he moved around the rest of the open living space.   
Most of the furniture was still intact and in use, but the living room rug and couch were charred and black on the bottoms and on the cushions. And what a shame, it all seemed so well cared for besides the living area. Phil pulled out his phone to make a list.

Shopping- for house:  
Couch and loveseat  
Rug  
Coffee table  
Groceries (make separate list)  
TV  
And it goes on.

The town was just a small handful of people so the shopping center is in the next town over, so he would have to get either Techno or Tommy to come with him and help move things around.   
He’d do so tomorrow, for now he’d let them get settled in.

As night settles in on this small town, the three of them bundle up on what remains of an old air mattress in the middle of a charred living room. The blare of light off a laptop screen is all that aluminates sleeping faces and Wilbur smiles.  
A chill washes the room as the laptops closed in the dead of night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's a little short- It's really just filler to get into the next chapter and really start the story.  
> I will however probably b working on another fic for a bit, but I will try to have the next chapter out- don't expect too much as my schedule is kind of wack at the moment


End file.
